Hot Spot
by Ra'Zara The First
Summary: Donald once said that his brother fell into a volcano. How did Douglas manage to fake a death that way? This is my general take on it. (Rated T mainly for the death. This is AU and OOC. Offshoot of the Hybrid series. One-shot.)


**Hey, look, it's the first story that isn't just titled with one word!**

**Okay, guys, this is a one-shot that just hit me about two or three days ago. It is much shorter than most of mine, but here it is. I kinda like it, so yay. **

**For the record, this is rated T for a very, very important reason. Why? A death that you might find graphic. It's probably not for the more squeamish among you. However, I didn't think it bad enough to rate this M. Pretty sure you guys can handle it. You're tough, right? Also, there might be some cussing in here, but I can't remember. There ****_is_**** a demon, but it's just Hellcat. He's a big teddy bear.**

**So, with that in mind, remember that this is definitely AU and an offshoot of the Hybrid series, even though it could almost stand alone.**

**That being said, let's get started. Thomas?**

**"****Zara doesn't own Lab Rats or anything you recognize. If you don't recognize it, it's probably hers."**

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_"__The traumatized soul finds no rest in conditions of peace. It's forever questing for violence, for action, for the same combination of factors which gave rise to it in the first place."_

**Matthew S. Williams**

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_"__After a traumatic experience, the human system of self-preservation seems to go onto permanent alert, as if the danger might return at any moment." _

**Judith Lewis Herman,****_ Trauma and Recovery_**

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**Ra'Zara the First proudly presents "Hot Spot."**

**_Douglas, Age 25_**

Douglas had never imagined that he would be in Indonesia, waiting on his pain-in-the-ass terrorist partner to get ready so that they could _finally _visit the Kawah Ijen volcano. He had visited a few volcanoes during his travels away from the United States, but none were quite as special as this one. This was a volcano that they had to visit after dark due to its rare nature. Sure, Douglas was supposed to be laying low, but if his brother had stolen his kids and forced him out of the United States with a vicious FBI man hunt, then Douglas deserved to do something he wanted to, damn it!

Unfortunately, the man he had been essentially forced to run with for the past two months to watch his back was the most annoying asshole he had ever met. He was always _happy._ It was constant. Why couldn't he be sad about something for once instead of Douglas?

"Tom, hurry up," Douglas huffed, looking through his phone at the pictures of his kids again. They would be older now, of course, but he still remembered them as the little bundles of sunshine in his life. Even when Adam was begging to be carried, Chase was asking questions and Bree was curiously taking apart microwave carts with her fingernails.

He shivered a bit at the thought of what could have happened if he had found her a few seconds after he did. Scooping up a laughing Bree just as the cart collapsed had been one of the most panic-inducing moments of his life. Honestly, he had been so afraid that she would be crushed that he had actually yelled at her. The tears were hard to watch, but he would rather her be crying over being in trouble than over being injured or killed.

A week later, he had given the three bionics to help them in the world, specifically choosing her speed so that his little princess could escape situations like that in the future. And, a month after _that,_ Donald had stolen them.

Douglas ground his teeth. He needed to get back to the United States so that he could get his children back.

His thoughts were interrupted by his irritating partner coming into the room. "Calm your nuts, Douglas. We won't miss it. I promise."

Douglas resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Of _course_, they wouldn't miss it. However, he wanted to spend as much time looking at the strange phenomenon as he could. Strange things had always fascinated him, and the burning sulfur that made the lava of Kawah Ijen look neon blue at night was no exception. He already knew that he wouldn't like it as much as he liked Hessdalen Valley, but he would still enjoy the sight.

Too bad Tom had to come along.

Gathering their gear, both left the room to go wait at the base of the volcano. They would follow the people that went up on the volcano every night to gather the sulfur to sell. If anyone knew the safest paths up the mountainside, it would be them. Of course, no one bothered to ask the names of the two strangers heading up the volcano with them. No one even cared. They were just a pair of tourists.

Douglas, however, cared quite a bit that Tom was hiking up with him. Constantly taking pictures, constantly talking, and constantly making horrible jokes had Douglas grinding his teeth. He had never met someone so irritatingly perky in his life, but he wished that Tom would just go away. By the time they reached a larger lava flow – one that had filled a shallow crevice in the mountain so that the neon blue flames flowed several feet below the two – Douglas was ready to just turn back and leave Tom there.

Tom, however, set his backpack down and took out his camera, nudging Douglas with a grin. "Could you imagine if these were in glow sticks?"

Douglas felt himself frown as he flatly replied, "They would melt."

"I meant the color," Tom responded. "Don't be so literal all the time." He took a picture of the flaming lava flow before sighing. "Oh, these are so lovely."

Although he agreed, Douglas wanted to roll his eyes. Tom had a way of turning everything that was fun into an ordeal. Trying to ignore his annoyance, Douglas pulled out his own camera and snapped a few pictures of his own. When he got his kids back, he would show them the neon blue lava flows of Indonesia and watch their eyes light up. That would be a fun day.

"Hey, Douglas, take my picture!"

Douglas snapped out of his thoughts to see that Tom had gotten much closer to the edge of the lava flow. "Get back from there, moron," he hissed. He might not like Tom, but he didn't want him dead. His foolish bravery was going to get him hurt.

"I'll be _fine,_" Tom insisted, scooting a bit closer to the edge. "Don't be such a buzzkill."

"Seriously, you're going to get hurt, dumbass!" Douglas moved a few steps closer to Tom, ready to pull him back. When he touched Tom's arm, however, everything went wrong.

"Douglas, lighten up," Tom huffed, pulling away a bit too hard. The motion, though, caused him to lose balance and tilt sickeningly towards the lava. Douglas yelped and snatched at Tom, hoping to catch his arm, or his shirt, or _anything_, but it was too late. With a terrified scream, Tom fell over the edge and into the lava flow, his camera catching on a rock to hang over the flow.

Tom, unfortunately, wasn't that lucky.

Douglas' morbid curiosity got the better of him, basically forcing him to watch Tom's demise. He floated for a few seconds on the surface before erupting in blue flames himself and sinking into the molten lava, the only evidence that he fell in being the camera hanging above the pit.

The next several moments were a blur for Douglas. A shaking, panicky, sobbing blur. He had built and set bombs, blown buildings sky high, and killed dozens of people in his quest to reform government. However, he had never, _ever,_ watched a person die up close. _Especially_ not someone he knew. Tom was an irritating asshole, but he didn't deserve that.

It was after this momentary panic – he noted dully that he had thrown up at some point – that he noticed that Tom's backpack was still resting beside him on the ground. Maybe this horrifying accident could be beneficial. Maybe…maybe he could go home again.

Douglas looked around to make sure that he was alone before he pulled off his backpack and dropped it on the ground, making sure to change his fake papers for his real ones. Now, if anyone rifled through the backpack, they would find all of Douglas Davenport's identification papers. Then, trying not to look at the lava flow, Douglas scooped up Tom's backpack and turned away from the crevice, walking away. He was very aware of the tears still streaking down his cheeks, but he still walked on, making sure that someone saw him. They had seen two people go up, but only one person come down. It would lead to an investigation, he was sure.

Back at the room, it took Douglas all of ten minutes to completely pack and abandon the place, leaving his old stuff behind – except for the pictures he had of his kids – to make it look like he had never come back down from the mountain. He gathered up all of Tom's things and caught the first plane he could to France, where he spent the next month trying to get over the horrifying scene he had witnessed. He relived it so often in his dreams that he only slept a few hours a night for the first week or so. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Tom's terrified face as he fell before bursting into flames. And, every day, he saw Tom's face on television as an international manhunt centered on him. He seemed to fall off the face of the earth, though. Perfect.

In the back of his mind, Douglas wondered how Donnie reacted to the news that his younger brother was possibly killed. Would he be devastated, or would he dance on Douglas' grave? Would he even tell the kids?

After a while, Douglas just chose not to think about it.

Six months passed before Douglas finally returned to the United States under one of his many false names. He bought a house, built Marcus, and began planning on how to get his children back. It took much, much longer than that, though, for Tom to stop haunting his dreams. If he had just moved a few seconds faster, than Tom might still be alive. It was a painful thought, one that he was sure would plague him forever, but one that he couldn't help having. If he had been _faster,_ that irritating asshole would still be alive today. After a while, he just finally shut everything out. He forced himself not to think about it. He never did anything that could possibly remind him of it, meaning he lived in a media blackout for years. As soon as someone mentioned fire, volcanoes or that they were named "Tom," he walked away. And, when Marcus asked what the neon blue fire pictures were on an old camera he found, Douglas had locked the camera away. He had visited his grave once – wondering briefly who had laid flowers on it – but had never visited it again.

In fact, it wasn't until years had passed and Marcus started school with his other children that Douglas' curiosity finally got the best of him and he ran a search for the old incident that had caused his alleged demise.

Years later, Thomas Middleton was still wanted for the suspected murder of Douglas Davenport. Too bad they'd never find him.

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_"__I'd learned that some things are best kept secret." _

**Nicholas Sparks****_, Dear John_**

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_"__A secret's worth depends on the people from whom it must be kept." _

**Carlos Ruiz Zafón****_, The Shadow of the Wind_**

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**_Douglas, Age 39_**

Taking a selfie with one's tombstone was actually more fun than he thought it would be. It was _more_ fun because Chase's grave was right beside it, and he was taking his own selfie. He didn't know what Chase would do with his picture, but Douglas was going to make his the background on his computer. He found it hilarious that he was going to be next to his own tombstone. It made him a kind of paradox. More importantly, it made him smile to think that he was buried next to his youngest son, who was also still alive. It was like a family hobby at that point. Pretty soon, every last one of his kids would be faking their first deaths.

It made Douglas proud just thinking about it.

Chase examined his picture with a grin. "Never thought I'd be standing on my grave."

Douglas shrugged, remembering his visit to his first grave. It was decidedly less perky than this one.

As if Chase picked up on the thought, he nudged Douglas with his elbow. "How many graves do you have at this point? Three? Four?"

Douglas shook his head. "Just two. This one, and one across town. Of course, that one says that I died at twenty-five."

Chase grinned cheekily. "Mr. Davenport said you fell into a volcano."

With a nod, Douglas responded, "Because, according to the death certificate, I _did."_

And, suddenly, Chase looked confused. "Really? How did you even manage it?"

Douglas felt himself wince involuntarily, forcing the horrifying thought of Tom away. "You don't want to go down this road, kiddo."

"Now I kind of do," Chase responded. "I mean, what could be horrible enough that you don't want me knowing about it?"

Douglas frowned, lost momentarily in the flashback of the moment when Tom fell into the lava. He shuddered involuntarily, willing bile back down his throat before finally speaking again. "Look, I made everyone think that I had fallen into a volcano, all right? That's literally all you need to know."

Chase frowned, lowering his cat ears and throwing his hands up in the universal "I'm innocent" gesture. "Okay, sorry I asked."

Douglas sighed heavily, resting his hand on Chase's shoulder and giving him what he hoped was a look that didn't look as distraught as he felt. "Look, I'm sorry, okay? But some things, you just don't want to know."

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**That's it. Short. Random. Kind of a theory based off of Mr. Davenport's comment that his brother died in a volcano. **

**Anyways, that's all. Feel free to review. Or not. Whatever.**

**And enjoy.**

***Bows and exits***


End file.
